Frigid Fire
by RobertVenger
Summary: Loki breaks out of Asgard, and Tony finds himself situated with a very beautiful gemstone that he is assigned to decipher. Neither of them think that their paths will ever cross again, but to their dismay, they do...
1. Step-By-Step

(_Hey. Sorry for my absence. I'll eventually get to continuing my Pepperony story, but for now.. Have this. Seeing as I am inspired for this currently. ^^ Enjoy.)_

* * *

Finally back at the tower, after that incident with the God of Mischief, Tony was starting to think that the world needed him and the petty group of heroes more and more often. Honestly, it was kind of annoying being constantly on call for some stupid kid blowing shit up a few blocks down. Walking down the almost car-wash like mechanism as his Iron Man suit was taken off, he rolled his shoulders and sighed, his suit was a bit battered more so than normal. No doubt due to the fact that this time it had been a slightly bigger deal, it had been a short scuffle in Manhattan, but not without quite a bit of repercussion and prize. Firstly a good portion of Downtown had been blown to smithereens, secondly…. The cause of it all had been a few stupid kids on the street who found a mysterious stone and decided to try it out, and when it decided to blow everything up in the vicinity, well… The Avengers and SHIELD were a little bit less than just pleased.

After the battle had ended, Tony found this stone. It had a certain allure to it, and after a quick "meeting" with Nick Fury back at the base, he decided to hand the stone over to Tony for studying and for safe keeping. Steve, had disagreed with Fury, thinking Tony to be too irresponsible or something along those lines, but in the end Iron Man got the stone regardless, it was not as if Steve Rogers' opinion actually mattered in this particular case. Regardless, Tony wandered back into his tower, ears ringing still with the sounds of battle and the loud pangs of destruction, and then there were the sirens of the police cars arriving at the scene of broken down Manhattan, they had everything under control it seemed for now. Which meant, to Tony's absolute fortune he got to rest, he was going to be able to sit down and just have a drink and inspect the stone in a quiet environment. Something he had been desperately wishing for now for the past hour ever since he got his hands on the beautiful gem.

It was purple, not particularly a common color for a regular looking rock, which made Stark think that perhaps it had fallen from space at such a high velocity that it somehow broke through any atmospheric barriers that the Earth had. Which was reasonable, after all a meteorite had succeeded in that before, why not a smaller rock? Something smaller could travel at a higher speed after all. Regardless, he pulled up a chair next to the desk, and set the stone in front of him, with a single swipe of his hands holograms and screens showed up, he placed the stone into one of his customized scanners, which went through the artifact with red lines, before beeping in denial and confusion. It did not recognize the material, so it was not anything from Earth… Alright, a different setting and Tony calibrated quickly before setting the stone back up for scanning, only to receive the same exact reply as before. There were residual pieces of the dust from the atmosphere on it; however there was no telling where this stone was from. Whether it was from a planet, or something entirely different, Tony was going to go with something entirely different for now as he scribbled down a few notes.

Hours passed, and Tony even after humming to himself and even talking to himself like some crazed scientist could not figure out what in the world this stone was made out of, he rubbed his face in frustration looking around, he stood up. A break, yes a break that is what he needed and so without much hesitation he turned from his desk and chair, and went to the bar just a few paces away. Picking out liquor, he poured some into a glass and sipped. Stark was quite up to his neck with all of these mysterious happenings as of recent, he was quite ready to go back to his normal life where he had to fight some guy hell-bent on taking over his company, or some foreign dude from another country. Yeah, he'd take that over aliens with spaceships any day. Though he had a feeling in the back of his head that things would not be settling down any time soon, and when his gut feeling told him something, Tony tended to follow no matter how absolutely stupid it might have initially seemed.

But, no - another sip – he couldn't worry about such petty things currently, Loki was gone up in his own world being punished, imprisoned. Things wouldn't be heating up any time soon, Loki had been the biggest threat they faced as a group (minus the short falling out) and Tony doubted that there was any enemy out there who was as big of a threat, and if they could take out Loki they could take out anyone else. Plus, what exactly were the odds of there being anymore aliens out there? Tony hoped slim, though again his gut feeling told him he was just fooling himself, which he might have been, and so he sighed and took another drink of his beverage eyes closing for a brief second to rest them.

When he did open his eyes, he had to look outside, the large windows he had always gave the most beautiful scenery of the evening time New York; it was mesmerizing and relaxing all at the same time and Tony smiled very briefly at what he saw before moving over in a quiet shuffle to the desk once more, plopping down he set his drink off to the side and looked back to the stone.

"What am I going to do with you?" He inquired a soft shake of the head before he picked it up and looked it over once more, alright so maybe he wasn't completely dumbfounded by this thing, he just needed to break it open and see what was inside that was causing this power. So without further ado, he reached down into the box of tools just under the desk, hand blindly searching for the hammer. This was probably a bad idea, but nothing could deter Tony Stark from his duty, and therefore he gripped the hammer tightly in his hand once he found it, smiling with a bit of glee.

Did someone say volatile?


	2. Breaking Free

Ah... The joys of the God of Mischief. What happens next? Only time will tell.

* * *

Hard months of imprisonment had passed but not without planning and plotting for the God of Mischief. He was not done with what he had set out to do, and with that said there was no keeping him behind bars of solid steel and magic. Not only did he spend late nights talking to himself muttering incantations, but he was also having meetings with his assistants from the outside through the small window in his cell – with a beautiful view – not that Loki paid attention to it all that much, he had far more pressing matters to tend to, day-dreaming and staring out windows was hardly a very good way to spend one's own time. Well, at least that was how Loki felt, he was sure Thor would have loved to stare out of a window had he been in a prison cell seeing as his "brothers" mind was no doubt filled with air, and meat-lovers anything.

That however was an entire story all on its own, and Loki was not one to dwell on his brothers thinking or eating habits and instead he concentrated on the plans that were to unfold upon this evening. He would make his escape without a single soul noticing it before it was much too late to do anything about it. The very thought filled him to the brim with maniacal glee. When the warden came around to check on all of the prisoners, to make sure they were asleep, Loki slinked in his cat like prowl towards the bars, and without touching them put himself as close as possible to the warden. Then, as if a shadow talking he purred his words. A tongue of glimmering silver did he possess, and used with every chance that he had.

"Psst…" He whispered, his voice tempting and venomous, a forbidden fruit. "Come here," He persuaded quietly.

The warden turned, he did not seem so pleased. The warden was a large man, a guard much taller than Loki could ever hope to be, he was buff and his muscles rippled… The very sight reminded Loki of Thor, or the green beast back in Midgard that had very unfortunately thrashed him about, the image returning to his head made him swallow dryly, he had to choose his words carefully; he never wanted to be humiliated in such a manner ever again. "What do you want?" The bigger man growled, his stupid eyes squinting at Loki in slight suspicion.

The trickster smiled mischievously, that little toothy smile that he was so well known for he even huffed a soft chuckle, nothing of true grandeur just enough to get the big brute listening. "The restrooms." He stated ever so plainly, eyebrows rising for a moment waiting for the reply; he knew it would be nothing too intelligent, maybe the male had even forgotten it was night time by now?

"It is night time, you can hold it." Drat! He didn't forget, well more schmoozing never hurt anyone, so Loki put himself closer to the bars, not touching them as the magic there was strong enough to zap him to another century. "Mm, I don't think so." The smaller male replied, a hand going to the stone wall next to him, he ran a slender finger over it, humming. "You can even escort me." He thought that this would be pleasing enough; the warden was too stupid to see beyond his own nose.

There was a long heavy pause, that hung in the air the warden continued to squint his small little eyes over at Loki, trying to get into his head and see if he was lying, but his brain simply could not muster much thought in the general direction of overall suspicion. So after a grunt and a quick look around the man grabbed onto the keys on his belt, and unlocked the door immediately did the magic disappear. Loki grinned almost immediately.

"Ah. Thank you." He whispered, his voice still ever dripping with those venomous jewels. Then without a single moment of hesitation, he chanted an incantation and the warden eyes turned a pale red bordering on pink, and his gaze turned more emotionless than before. Loki had been practicing the magic of possession while in the cell, thus the muttering and now it had been perfected and with no magical barrier to hold his magic back he could perform as he wished.

"Steal back my staff." He commanded, and with that the bigger man walked off. Loki was wearing prison clothing, however this was only an illusion that the prison cell itself had casted upon him, and so the moment he took a step out the full regalia (horns and all) melted back onto his body perfectly, he smiled rolling his shoulders a bit in the comfort of having his armor back on him. Now he walked out of the prison without much hesitation, or more so teleported himself out of the prison, all the while using doppelgangers to distract any guards that might be standing around. This prison was not doing so well tonight.

He walked to the bifrost, the broken rainbow bridge. He stood at the edge, eyes glimmering with delight at his new found freedom, and moments later the warden was back with the scepter. Loki took it into his hands and was consumed with power that he had lost after having lost that battle in New York. "Now jump off." He pointed out into the middle of nothing, commanding the warden to end his own life in a manner, and the man did. He jumped without a second moments thought. Good. Now…

Loki turned back to standing at the edge, and in the distance he saw the one he was waiting for, one of Skrulls minions coming on his vehicle to take them to Midgard. It was a strange vehicle seeing as in Asgard, horses was used more often than not so to see a motorized vehicle zipping through space was interesting to say the least. He stepped onto the back of the vehicle, and within a moment's notice, both Skrull and Loki were gone altogether, traveling at the speed of light.

It was not long after that Loki was walking in the shadows of New York City. He could sense a power here, the power he was searching for. He had bigger plans here, far beyond that of just ruling or destroying a silly little planet in the middle of nowhere. A much greater force was coming after him, a force he dared not to reveal to anyone, it would have been a weakness not an asset.

The male slipped from shadow to shadow within the alleyways, grinning to himself in his successful escape, one that he could have not hoped to accomplish without a silly little scroll of darker magic that he had left back at his cell.

Granted though, freedom did not smell very good… Or was that the sewer?


	3. Explosions

I really tried to give Tony something to fight in here, maybe for the duration of the fiction for that matter. Anyone who has read the comic books, knows he has struggled with alcohol for a very long time, so it is fairly reasonable that he struggles with it even now. Mental turmoil, and just a little bit of a comic relief for your reading pleasure. Just a mix of it all for you all that enjoy both aspects of stories.

* * *

That hammer idea had not been such a great one, mostly because now Tony was lying on the floor with a hammer a few feet away from him, and he had a red spot on his forehead which was bound to turn into a disgusting bruise later. Needless to say this was not Stark's proudest moment, but currently he was not even paying attention to the fact that he had been blasted ten feet back from his seat, or the fact that his legs were still hanging over the edge of an over-turned chair. No, his gaze was fixed upon the ceiling he was clearly perplexed about something. Apparently hitting it with hammers didn't work, so maybe he needed less of a Point Break approach? Less Thor, more Tony. That seemed reasonable; he wiggled his jaw a bit, resetting it after having it offset itself via handle of hammer to the face.

This went on for a good ten minutes, until Tony finally sighed and turned his head, placing it down on his shoulder as he turned, his head naturally falling to this position as he silently stared now at the bar. Now he was thinking another drink was necessary, or maybe he was just thinking too much. Maybe he didn't need a drink; this was not the time to be reverting back to demon in a bottle Tony… Mild frustration settled itself down in the pit of his stomach, he hated that feeling. That feeling where he felt the need to get more alcohol even though he had poured himself a glass only moments ago, that slight feeling of helplessness. This feeling showed its ugly little head more than Tony would ever care to mention to any one person. He had battled it for years, and yet something just kept coming back, recurring to him in the most irritating manners possible. When he did not wish to think of the topic at all!

This feeling remained as Tony sat up, and proceeded to rub his damaged forehead, well shit, that was going to be a rather significant bruise or bump, how annoying. Though crying over spilt milk was not going to get anything done, so with a small grunt, Tony was up onto his feet, hammer left on the floor he walked over to the stone and looked it over, his chocolate brown eyes silently reflecting what he was seeing. He turned the stone over in his hands, once… Twice… Nothing was striking him as something he could actually do. What was the solution, what was the solution behind this blasted thing, it was powerful, and it had something hidden in it. He could not simply break it via a hammer, this was proven already as he had been thrown back rather painfully and he was lucky to still have both of his eyes.

After turning the gem in his hand a few times, he looked to the drink sitting there, the glass had moved a few inches from the blast but otherwise it remained untouched, and Tony reached down to it, plucked it carefully from the desk and took a sip. His mind settling down a bit, and he took another sip. Turning his head, he settled down the stone on the desk and grabbed the chair that was still turned over, pulling it over he sat down and started drinking. Maybe if he could get a buzz going, things wouldn't be so bad.

"These are the times, I really need a party." He contemplated; truly these were the moments in which he secretly wished for some sort of party to take his mind off of the turmoil's plaguing him. Had SHIELD not assigned him this "important" task of deciphering what exactly this stone was, he might not be currently plagued with a worry that he may not find out what this stone was. Stark was certainly wrong of course, but how was he supposed to know what the future was to hold for him? He didn't, and for this reason he let his gaze slowly turn back to the purple stone.

He exhaled gently, and the world continued to turn round and round. Another sip of the drink, and his mind was suddenly "clear" enough to solve the problem, he smiled gently to himself, and it was practically a grin ready to turn into a smirk. Suddenly hit with a stroke of absolute genius and brilliance, Tony set down the glass upon the desk and picked up the stone once more, there was one way he could probe this stone, or so he thought. But, it was hardly a smart idea to tell Tony Stark he was wrong, because he was very confident that he was not wrong, in anything. Never was he wrong, he was Tony Stark after all. Alright, he knew he was wrong in some cases, not that he cared to admit to that either.

Nonetheless, he slid back in his chair and turned the gem over and over in his hand playfully, before walking over to a small machine near the bar, it was set off in a corner next to the elevator and the bar. It was a miniature power-generator. Maybe if Tony could succeed in generating some sort of power, or energy waves out of this thing, he could get a reading on what exactly it was, or at least figure out the type of waves, and from there come to theories, and deductions. This was not the best thing in the world, but unfortunately the only playing field that he had, and so he turned the generator on with a quick flick of a switch, before setting the stone down between two metal pads, they pressed on the stone, quickly reading it, while Tony calibrated everything for the situation. Once that was all set, he placed protective glasses onto his face, and took a few steps back, well not a few, more like quite a few feet back, as the countdown on the calibration began.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two…. One…

**BOOM!**

Debris and wall pieces flew everywhere. Tony suddenly found himself sitting on top of his bar-counter, and there was a sizzling hole not only in his ceiling (going all the way to the roof top) but there was also quite a bit of glass around, that and it didn't really help that his generator had just exploded into a million pieces, it had taken time to make that damn thing! Tony rolled his neck, feeling a few pieces of glass sticking into his clothing, he grumbled in discomfort, slowly sliding off of the bar, and cleaning himself off.

It took a moment, but he did eventually make his way over to where the generator used to be. The elevator door was dented; there was a hole in his ceiling, the wall… The generator was gone.. Sigh… What a pain, and yet there it was, the stupid stone was still there, sitting in the dent it had created itself on the ground. Tony stared at it, now only more intrigued, and perhaps a bit annoyed, he reached down and picked it up.

"What are you?" He inquired, talking to himself with a shake of his head; he turned once again, and walked back to the desk where his drink still stood, like an undying enemy, no matter what happened in this tower, he could always rely on the alcohol to stay in one piece. He glared at the glass for a moment, as if trying to get it to explode with his mind, but after a moment, he picked up a bulletproof little case, and stuck the stone into it. This would have to wait until later…. He had a headache and needed a shower or something like that.


End file.
